


Broken Glass and Frayed Strings

by The_Ace_Anon



Series: Kidnapped Dark [1]
Category: Real Person Fiction, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:55:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24083179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Ace_Anon/pseuds/The_Ace_Anon
Summary: Dark has been in the Actor’s…“care” for years now, he has given up all hope to continue…and now his story is finally at its end. AKA: I had an idea for a fic i’m currently working on but I couldn’t do it because I don’t want to kill off Dark so I’m writing this little snippet instead!
Relationships: Darkiplier & The Actor, Mark Fischbach & Mark Fischbach
Series: Kidnapped Dark [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737508
Kudos: 8





	Broken Glass and Frayed Strings

The Actor’s blood curdling scream echoed throughout the apartment, jolting Dark awake. He shifted in his cage, rattling the chains keeping him captive, and tried to figure out the reason for the scream. Maybe it was another trick to fill Dark with false hope only to tear it away. Maybe he was pretending to have been killed to see Dark’s reaction, or maybe he was actually dead. Maybe Mark had finally been killed. The idea didn’t fill Dark with excitement like it used to. He just felt...empty, tired,  _ resigned. _

Did it really matter if he was dead or not? Dark still wasn’t getting out of here, he’d accepted that a long time ago. Accepted that even if he somehow got out of the building or something happened to Mark he was nowhere strong enough to get himself home. All he could do was sit and rot, waiting for help he knew would never come.

The bedroom door creaked open and Mark’s aura crept through, the black liquidy substance sliding across the floor, headed towards Dark’s cage He tried to get as far away from it as he could, flating himself against the bars, memories of pain and suffocation making themselves known. The aura stopped right in front of the cage and reached for him, forming a black, slimey hand with long, thin fingers to do so.

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!” He yelled, his voice cracking from disuse, as he flared his shell to try to keep it away, red and blue lighting up the room. It didn’t stop, and he felt grab onto his own aura and  _ pull _ . The second it started pulling a horrible, familiar, white-hot pain filled him. Dark screamed and thrasted, trying to push it away trying to break free trying to make it STOP. His aura fought and cried, trying to get back in trying to get away, but the other had too tight of a hold and it was too weak. It pulled and pulled slowly tearing it away putting Dark through hell. He almost blacked out from the pain, the utter angoy that seemed to worsen and worsen with every second that ticked by. His shell cracked and strained, being pushed to its breaking point by the pain. It hurt it hurt it hurt it HURT.

And then it stopped. Dark slummed to the floor in relief. There were still echoing remnants of the pain but nowhere near as bad as it was just a second ago. He could hear his aura screaming, it’s ringing frantic. He struggled to open his eyes and look at it, to see what was being done to it. His smoky grey aura was fighting against the liquid that held it, trying to get back to Dark. But Mark’s aura just pulled it further and further away from Dark and closer and closer into itself, mashing and tying them together. His aura let out one final cry, before it was fully absorbed into the liquid.

The now whole aura rose and grew, bubbling and forming into a new state. A form incombehisable by the human mind. The Entity shifted and clicked in a language that Dark couldn’t understand, it hurt his head just to listen to it. He felt its gaze wander over to him and he flinched back, sitting up as much as he could. For a moment all was quiet, the Entity thinking, Dark frozen in fear. He had the sudden impression that it was smiling at him and then it crawled out the window, off to do whatever house demons did whenever they weren’t trapped in a house.

He curled back up against the bars, trying to figure out what to do. Mark was dead that was certain, most likely killed by his own aura, and Dark wasn’t far behind. He couldn’t live without his own aura, it was the glue that held him together. It probably wouldn’t be long now. He closed his eyes and let himself zone out, knowing nothing he could do would save him now. And even if he could save himself, he didn’t really see the point. His mission, his entire reason for existence, was done. Even if he hadn’t been the one to kill Mark, the man was still dead, and you couldn’t bring someone back and kill them again after a death like that. And there was no other reason for him to continue on. Nothing and no one to live for.

He felt the blue flicker off for a moment. Dark shifted into a much more comfortable position, wanting to at least be a little comfy when he died. The idea of dying didn’t scare him, it never had to be completely honest. The only problem he had before with dying was that he hadn’t done what he was created to do, but that problem was now solved. He wondered if Will had ever looked for him, if he was still looking for him. Dark hoped Wilford never found him, so that he wouldn’t have to see his rotted corpse.

The blue flicked again, and went out. His form collapsed, unable to hold without the blue. The world broke apart, falling, cracking, shattering. The colors melted, the world frayed at the edges. Her their  his being fell, broke, cracked, frayed. Holes forming, growing bigger and bigger, devouring everything around them, tearing the whole thing apart. But was it ever truly whole in the first place? Red screaming, crying, holding a dead, empty soul with not even a whisper of  blue left. Trying to put  him back together, trying to bring  him back but failing. Red flicking off for a moment, the world dying. An empty void with no congruent thoughts, no emotions, no memories, no existence. The red flicked back on, the pain and reality and memories returning in broken pieces. Memories she they  he couldn’t make sense of, playing, repeating, looping over and over and over and over and over and over and over. Red trying to hold everything together, trying to stop the strings from fraying, trying to hold the broken glass together, trying to fix the unfixable mess. The strings frayed faster, the glass fell through desperate hands like sand in an hourglass, the mess became more and more broken. Everything breaking, failing out of control. The red flickers once, twice, and then forever goes out.

And the being known as Darkiplier ceased to exist.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are always appreciated. I'm much more active on my tumblr (aka this was posted months ago on tumblr and I'm only just posting it now here) which is the-pan-anon.


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